Two Can Play At This Game (A Harry Styles Love Story)(Completed)

-Chapter1

Liberty's P.O.V

Pulling on my black leather jacket, and applying a final layer of mascara to my eyelashes, I survey myself in the full length mirror screwed to my maroon wallpapered wall. My deep maroon coloured skinny jeans fitted my legs perfectly, and white tee shirt with a black peace sign, hung loosely around my upper body. The black leather jacket hugging my figure, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, and my lace less black plimsoll comforting my feet. An over the top amount of beaded, leather and plastic bracelets tied to each of my wrists, and to top everything off I wear a pair of black rimmed retro glasses. My hair parts down the centre of my head, the brown roots turning into blonde hair, then the ends coloured pink and purple. My green and blue eyes pop with the amount of black mascara clumping to my eyelashes, and my lips stand out with the fate colour of pink from my strawberry chap stick.

Slinging my black, leather, and heart studded messenger bag over my shoulder, I grab my white iPhone off the cabinet beside my bed. Closing shut my door, I semi run down the stairs and out the front door, both my parents and older brother Eric are already at work. This means I am from now on relied on to lock up the house because college starts later then their jobs.

It's my first day of college today, it only just feels like I finished year 11, life goes way to fast in my opinion. I'm taking media as a subject because I want to become a music producer when I'm ready to start working of course. But that won't be for at least two years from now, I don't want to rush into my life, I want to take my time, live my life to the full. I want to get drunk at house parties, and get into trouble, wear the crazy outfits and sleep in until four in the afternoon. This is just my attitude to life, I've learnt that life is way to short to worry about what others think of you, and to fall for boys who don't like you back.

Walking up to the gates of my new college, where I am going to be spending eighty percent of my time at, others are walking through the gates too. All dressed the same, what's mainly in the fashion, I on the other hand wear things I actually comfortable in. I haven't exactly got the same fashion sense to other; I like retro, vintage, rock chic clothes, not skimpy little skirts and tops that don't even cover your boobs.

At my old school I wasn't popular there, but everyone knew me and I knew everyone else, but they only wanted me to get to him. But when he left me no one cared really, I'm fine with being on my own and not having many friends. I like my own company to others. Walking up along the freshly washed down grey pave stones, I notice how everyone is sat in friendship groups and there isn't a single person who isn't sat alone. Everyone stops and stares at me, some pointing and whispering to their friends, let them. You could say that not only did my friends from my old school know me, but nearly everyone knows me.

Taking out the paper that shows where my form room is going to be, I look for directions, walking up to a tall glass building, I push the door, then taking a left along the corridor. My plimsolls squeaking as the friction from the shiny floor pulls back on my shoes. Billboards fill the walls all the way down the one hundred metre corridor, showing of the college's success with pass students.

A sound of metals vibrating against each other sounds as the bells ring indicating its time for us students to go to our form rooms. Luckily I am standing right outside mine; C45 is engraved into a metal plate then stuck to the red painted wooden door. A glass panel in the middle of the door shows that the tidy large room is empty, meaning I can have first dips on my seat.

Grasping my hand round the cold door handle, I pull down and push the door open, walking into the room, I spot a seat at the back by the window looking out onto the grounds of the college. I walk to the back of the room claiming the seat I wanted, placing my bag on the plastic red seat next to me to stop anyone from seating next to me, I lean back into the chair and take out my phone from my jean pocket.